


By any other name, he would not have been so monstrous

by virgotrocious



Category: Frankenstein - Mary Shelley
Genre: Almost Kiss, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post canon, Sharing a Bed, Walton just wants to save the boy, more to come - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-08-10 01:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20127364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virgotrocious/pseuds/virgotrocious
Summary: "Victor," Walton began, voice underlined with pleading, "though our time together was short, is a man who I consider to be a dear friend. I know his story, I know what he experienced of yours, and from that I grasp firmly that the blame does not rest solely on your shoulders. You are not the demon you perceive yourself to be, and as I told you I wish not for further suffering to befall your being. You do not wish to quit my company? Then stay. Aboard my ship, gain the trust of my men, for you have already acquired mine."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [An Alternative Story](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20019394) by [orphan_account](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account). 

Victor's body was not a sight to behold in any sense of morbid fascination. It was emaciated and cold, just as it was in his life immediately prior, but without the pulse of a living man, it appeared extensively more appropriate, and therefore all the more sickening. Still, Walton only just managed to rip his eyes from the sight of a newly beloved friend having met his fate, and the rest happened with such great speed that time may have stopped altogether. Walton was alone in the room with the shell of his only true friend, and then he wasn't.  
A man, towering in stature and proportionately large, appeared in the moment Walton had allowed himself to blink, and was gone by the time he opened his eyes. He needed not the time to register the sight before him, and Walton quit his cabin with the footsteps of a man plagued by madness and desperation.  
"Wait!" he cried to the creature as it vaulted the railing of his ship and fell to the black ocean below. "Stop! I swear to you that no harm will befall your person if you wait just a moment!"  
But the creature did not yield, and Walton decided in a state of partial unconsciousness that he would follow a similar path. His bare hands stung against the metal railing in his grasp, but the pain was fleeting. Walton fell a number of meters before his body was engulfed by the all consuming mass of water below.  
The splash he made was not insignificant, nor was the immediate shock that wracked his limbs and froze his body to the core. Instantaneously, black bordered his vision and Walton struggled to remain afloat. In the background and in between the moments in which his head was submerged, the shouts of crew members sang like static. Walton had not the sense to imagine himself a fool and instead grasped for the broken mass of ice mere meters from his person. Suddenly, he began to successfully advance, even as the shouts of his crew members grew louder.  
In a pace Walton did not believe himself capable of, he reached the ice. For a moment, he tried to climb atop the land adrift, but in a sense of miracle he was lifted as if weightless and set on the platform with a rough sort of caution. He inhaled deeply and tried quickly to regain his breath, but the sight before him was much easier to grasp than the water in his lungs.  
"Thank you," Walton panted, coughing violently as he did. "I couldn't allow you to quit the ship without first hearing me."  
The creature stood, and Walton noted that the body of his dear friend was no longer in its arms. The creature turned around and began to shift away, willing himself to disappear amongst the fog. Walton tried again to pursue him, but his limbs were wracked with a chill he could not have survived on any other account. He needed only to make it a short distance to reach his dear friend's creation.  
Through an act of God or pure will alone, Walton forced himself in a manner only barely successful in grabbing the creatures arm, regrettably lacking the force he attempted to apply. The creature, however, jolted as if lighting had run through his veins, and quickly pulled his arm from Walton's grasp.  
"Wait, please."  
"Why?" The creature cried, cradling his arm, "should I remain here to face the suffering you and your men wish to inflict? Begone! Do not pursue me as Victor once foolishly did."  
"I wish not to harm you."  
The creature looked upon the captain with disgusted skepticism, but something shone in his eyes as Walton reached out a hand once more. Fear or hope, man nor monster could tell.  
"Retire to the cabin of my ship, if for only a night. I have heard Victor's tale, sorrowful and wretched as it was, but his regret still runs through my veins. You do not deserve the fate you've been bestowed; not the death you plan for yourself. Come. I swear on my life you will feel no pain."  
Walton's words shifted the creature's stance, but the towering man's expression held dearly to its suspicions.  
"I will give you my bed, my meal, my room, and though I know it shameful to beg, I will if I must," Walton continued upon perceiving silence. "I promise you that there is more to life than what you've felt. Beneath the suffering I can show you joy and affection, but please, return with me to my ship."  
"Foolish man," the creature choked. "You know of the blood on my person and yet still you grasp your hands together? I will come back to your ship. But know that I will not fight, and if you choose to attack, it will be a battle of no satisfaction."  
"I assure you," Walton said. "I will not."

There was hesitance in how the creature moved towards his ship, following in Walton's wake as a prisoner led to the gallows. They climbed to the deck with the assistance and great effort of the crew, who did not scream, but gasped palely upon reviewing the creature's complexion and stature.  
"Sir…" one man began, approaching as if faced with great hindrance. Words seemed to abandon the man and in place of continuing, he weakly offered a first aid kit. Full of bandages, tweezers, and the like, it was not particularly helpful, though Walton appreciated the gesture and expressed as much. He followed the crewman's gaze when it left him, and wide eyes met clearly the monster they perceived.  
Sensing palpable fear in the air, the creature stiffened. In a similar observance, Walton settled to proceed hurriedly to his cabin with his new companion trailing closely behind. 

To fit through the door, the creature bowed deeply and once inside stood to a size inches scarce of the ceiling. He appeared remarkably out of place amongst the small fashions of the boat's finest room.  
"What is it you want of me?" The creature asked.  
Walton looked upon the supposed demon for a long minute, considering carefully his intentions and recalling the roots of his rash decision before opening his mouth to speak. When the air grew too thick to swallow and too heavy to bear against his shoulders, Walton said simply:  
"To give you life."

The creature started, shocked, and then wilted, bowing again to face the floor. Walton observed as his shoulders shook, and chest heaved, taking more than a moment to realize the quaking figure was wracked with tears. Walton stepped cautiously and placed a delicate hand atop the creature's own, halting to make slow contact. Minutes passed in this fashion until the creature managed to quell his tears; breath ragged still as he shook beneath the kindness of the touch. He lifted his head and met Walton's gaze.  
"You…" the creature struggled, voice raw with emotion, "feel as ice."

The declaration felt odd and out of place as silent tears slipped from the creature's eyes. However, as he shifted his hand from beneath Walton's, they made sense.  
Walton was in fact, freezing. He stood in a growing puddle of oceanic water and the tips of his fingers were turning blue. He realized the creature had not been shaking, but it was rather his own limbs that quaked as if fearful of their fate.  
"Oh… I suppose you're right." Walton only then felt how his teeth chattered.  
The creature seemed concerned in a slightly greater fashion. He made to shed his cloak, supposedly to wrap it around Walton, but stopped upon the man's request.  
"There is no need to fear for me, I only need to get out of these wet clothes and into something more suitable," Walton said.  
The creature scowled, more to himself than Walton, nodded, and stepped back as if a scolded child, tugging his torn cloak tight around his form and slouching inwards. The captain took notice and was quick to act.  
"But thank you very much," he smiled, aiming for one bright as the sun, which had already set. "Have a seat on the bed and I will find clean clothes. For me, and if I can find anything to fit, for you as well."  
The creature made a small sound and sat on the bed as his expression twisted into something unidentifiable, rubbing his large hands together as he waited. When Walton did not leave in an attempt to locate new clothes, merely shuffling to a trunk in the corner of the room, yellow eyes followed him carefully. When Walton produced from this chest a shirt, jacket, pants and the like, the creature looked upon his own rags and frowned. Then, when Walton began to undress, shoes first, then shirt, then pants, the creature stood so fast he bumped his head on the ceiling.  
Walton jolted at the sound, and turned quickly only to see his guest flush and face the wall, shocked and flustered as if a man of sin. He was not a child, nor was he naive as to why the creature reacted as he did, and made quick work of dressing while ignoring the rosiness of his own cheeks. Victor had never minded, but he should have supposed this was far different.

The creature, as it were, was still shell-shocked and rather mortified at his bumbling actions. His heart pounded incessantly, for more than the inherent implications of undressing. It was all far too intimate. The creature's head spun and his eyes watered, chest so full it felt as if the pressure would be his end. It really was significantly too much. What was happening? Never before had he been addressed with such a casual attitude; as if he were more than a fiend to be feared; as if he too were human.  
Walton coughed, the intention being to achieve the attention of the creature, but instead made him lurch forwards. His shoulders slumped in a kind of defeated concern, and he turned again slowly, suspicion adorned in the downward slope of his mouth.  
"I believe this may fit," Walton said, producing a similar cloak to the one the wretch bore. "It's the largest thing I own."

The creature looked upon him as if Walton had grown fangs and sprouted horns, shocked all the same. He made no move to reach out and take the cloak, standing instead with the stance of a man that didn't know what was coming next. Thusly, Walton stepped forward and tugged at the torn hem of the creature's sleeve, which was suddenly further away then he had expected.  
"Would you care to--"

"I cannot believe the concept which you wish to convey," the creature cried, violently tugging his arm away. "Presenting kindness to a demon as myself! Oh, what has my creator led you to believe, what has he offered you in return for your actions? A dying wish, last breath of a man to declare deception and manipulation upon a soul damned at birth, stung by his own occupations?"  
Walton gulped and moved to unfasten the upper clasp of the creature's cloak as if approaching a vicious dog, domestic in nature but abused and abandoned, forced to snap its teeth to survive. The creature shifted quickly and wrapped a singular hand around Walton's wrist.  
"Can you not see how you have burdened yourself?" The creature tightened his grip and Walton hissed in pain, instinct driving him to try and pull away. "If you teach me such kindness, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to quit your company, and I may make the separation painful for you as it is to me. I cannot guarantee your safety. My muscles are trained, fury clouds my vision, and blood has already stained these abhorrent hands."  
Walton stopped struggling, but let the new cloak slip from his grasp and crumple onto the floor. The creature did not release him, but his grip softened. 

"Victor," Walton began, voice underlined with pleading, "though our time together was short, is a man who I consider to be a dear friend. I know his story, I know what he experienced of yours, and from that I grasp firmly that the blame does not rest solely on your shoulders. You are not the demon you perceive yourself to be, and as I told you I wish not for further suffering to befall your being. You do not wish to quit my company? Then stay. Aboard my ship, gain the trust of my men, for you have already acquired mine."  
The creature's face morphed through a number of expressions, surprise, anger, hope, and then rested again on sorrow. Walton shifted in his grip, and reached further, bringing forward his other hand as well. With precise fingers, he undid the worn clasp of the creature's cloak, and this time was not stopped. The creature's hand remained on his wrist, engulfing nearly his entire forearm, as Walton moved down and worked to undo the last surviving buttons.  
Walton did not pull the coat from the creature's body, but rather slipped from the man's grip, and slowly bent down to pick up the fresh cloak from where it lay on the ground. He stood again, and looked at the creature expectantly.  
"Would you mind so terribly removing your cloak, so you can test the fit of mine? If you would prefer it, I can leave the room and give you some privacy."  
The creature looked uncertain, but hesitantly removed his cloak all the same, revealing the seams of stitches that ran across his chest, down past his stomach. Walton made an effort not to stare, but the creature seemed to pick up on his gaze nonetheless.  
"Is it truly so horrible?" he asked weakly.  
Walton shook his head and gently rest a hand above the creature's heart, feeling him freeze beneath the bare contact.  
"Not at all. I feel your heart as it beats, and that is all that matters."  
The creature made a soft sound in the back of his throat, somewhere between a growl and whine, but allowed Walton to move away all the same. The captain tried to assist in putting the cloak on, when the creature made no move of his own to help, but the gigantic stature made his actions difficult and he ended up feeling as a child. The creature saw this and pulled the cloak around his shoulders. 

From there Walton did what he could, doing up the various clasps and buttons, before stepping back and assessing the success of their experiment.  
The new cloak was certainly smaller than the previous, though not in a way significant enough as to warrant excessive discomfort. It fit most everywhere, falling around the creature's upper calves, although Walton recalled it being designed as floor-length. It was however, a little tight in the shoulders, and Walton figured such a problem may warrant abandoning the article all together.  
"Is it too tight?" he asked, already expecting a specific answer. "If you dislike it, I can have one of my men mend the one you already have."  
"No," the creature responded quickly. Blood rose to his cheeks, but he continued. "It is... But is it not yours?  
Walton smiled. "It was mine but I shift the ownership to you, of course, as I'm sure you can imagine such a large coat looks quite ridiculous on me."  
The creature nodded, and lowered his head.  
Suddenly, the sound of knuckles of metal reverberated throughout the room and the creature jumped, quickly moving away from the door where the sound originated. Walton stepped forward and answered the door, coming face to face with the nervous expression of one of his men. In his hands was a tray, and a plate upon which rested what was once an arctic grayling, cut and cooked beside a few ship crackers and pint or so of beer.  
The man tactlessly peered over Walton's shoulder as the captain took the plate from his hands, and locked eyes with the monster, who seemed anything but thrilled by his presence.  
"Is everything," he lowered his voice, "okay in there, captain?"  
Walton, unimpressed, looked upon him and said, "Yes. Thank you for the meal."  
The man's gaze fell back on Walton and he shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably.  
"Dismissed."

When the man left, Walton kicked the door shut and turned to face the creature, who remained in the back corner of the cabin.  
"Come," Walton said, sitting down on the bed and patting the spot next to him. "Have a warm meal and then I will see to it that you have comfortable conditions to rest."  
The creature nodded, adjusting his new clothes absentmindedly before taking a hesitant seat. The mattress shifted to support his weight and he stiffened when Walton bumped against his shoulder, careful not to jostle the tray.  
"Have you eaten fish before?" Walton asked.  
The creature gulped, heart full to the point of bursting. "I have not."  
Walton offered him the plate and he took it gently.  
"And what of your meal?"  
"Eat, worry not about me."  
Nodding, the creature took a reluctant bite and his eyes widened. Cooked food had rarely touched his tongue, and never once had a meal been warm for him. The fish was made without special ingredients or any sort of specialty, but it remained without doubt the finest thing the creature had ever tasted. How could the captain be willing to sacrifice such a meal for the likes of him?  
Walton laughed softly, and the creature rushed to stare, expecting mockery, but was instead blessed by, for the first time, a man happy to be in his presence. He gulped deeply and finished half of the fish before passing the plate back to Walton.  
"Surely that cannot be enough to sustain you. I insist at least eating one of the crackers," Walton said, holding the plate up in offering instead of simply handing it back. The creature seemed flustered, but took a ship cracker anyways and nibbled on it as Walton ate what he did not want. When all that was left was the pint of beer, and the creature declined it with soft skepticism, Walton concluded that it would be best to simply set it aside. 

The creature wondered if Walton could hear how his heart beat, for surely it was loud enough to echo about the confines of their close quarters. He hated to admit it to himself, for such feelings were never meant to be his, but hope had clawed its way painfully up his throat like bile, and the unadulterated ecstasy that came hand in hand with receiving what he had so long desired was becoming impossible to contain. For how would the captain feel if he, a wretch, were to cave to such affections, and try to lean into the touch of man.  
Something shifted beside him, shocking the creature out from inside his head, and he looked ahead to watch as Walton stood from the bed. At full height, as the creature sat, their heads were still just barely level. He smiled and asked,  
"Would you like to rest? I know that hell has seemed to seize you, and sleep may not be something often awarded, but… I think it would do you some good."  
The creature again faced the wall, head snapping quickly and causing his dark hair to cast itself over his eyes. Walton assumed he had unintentionally embarrassed his guest, but missed how the creature wrung his hands and had no way of knowing how badly he wished to be touched with affection.  
"And you?" he choked out, eyes remaining averted.  
Walton smiled softly and thought of how Victor reacted the same once he was lucid enough to feel shame.  
"That's up to you."  
The creature did not turn around, but rather pivoted his head to cast a long sideways glance at the captain. His quizzical expression was hardly visible. Walton thought it best to elaborate.  
"I can sleep elsewhere, quit my cabin, if you wish. Or, alternatively, I could stay here. Whether it be on the floor, at my desk, or with you."  
"With me?" The monster exclaimed. His face did not turn red, but darkened all the same, and Walton wondered the color of his blood.  
"Only if that is what you want. I see no issue in sharing a bed, but if you would rather I leave, I see no reason why not. It would be no trouble."

The creature stared at his hands, and then at the bed. He knew what he would prefer, but thought of the repercussions of becoming even more deeply attached. Walton would surely want to cut him loose eventually, but with the noose so tight around his neck, it's very possible the captain may slip.  
"...stay."  
Walton nodded and removed his coat, a pleasant tint to his cheeks. He would be remiss if not to admit that was the choice he had hoped for.  
"Of course." 

To fit in the bed, it turned out, was a challenging task for two people, especially when one of them was eight feet in height, with large limbs and shoulders nearly as broad as the bed itself. Walton had not looked far enough ahead to contemplate this problem, but it was one with a simple solution.  
"Here, roll on your side," Walton instructed, urging the creature's back closer to the wall so his guest would not be in danger of falling off the bed.  
With every touch, something seemed to stir anew in the creature, as with every small bit of contact he melted beneath Waltons fingers in a sort of tender panic. When the captain joined him in bed, also on his side, he realized again how ridiculous a picture their situation must have made. The creature, even laying down, was massive, and had to curl his legs to keep them from hanging off the bed.  
"Is this okay?" Walton asked, rolling to face the creature, met instead by collarbone and neck.  
The creature did not respond for a long while, although his throat convulsed as if attempting to form words.  
Eventually, in a strangled voice he managed, "Yes."

Walton fell asleep relatively fast, or at least the creature assumed as much from how the man's chest began to rise and fall in a manner steady as oceanic waves. Beneath the shadow cast by night's temporary reign, the creature, lone in his consciousness, felt tension slip from his shoulders. He had been atop a mattress, of course, but the circumstances had been rather unfavorable and his hands shook at the memory of velvet skin beneath his fingers, squeezing life from the form of Victor's bride to be. But this was different, new in a way the monster had dreamed, but could not have imagined.  
With Walton unconscious, the creature allowed himself to shakily rest a large hand against the captain's back, which faced him now and gently enlarged with each breath. The warmth of a human beneath his mangled hands was familiar but for the first time not tainted with fury and anguish. He sighed shakily, and his yellowed eyes began to spill.

"How would I appear in thine eyes," the creature whispered softly, "if my great misfortunes had eluded me? If not for the pity fashioned around my neck, the very thing that shields you from my horrors, would you treat me as the fiend which I appear? For how," he inhaled a deep breath, fading quickly as it were, "could a being of the finest divinity bestow affection upon such a wretch."  
The creature's voice hung now in the captain's cabin with great sorrow, dragged to shore by the pushing and pulling of his mournful lull. He presented these inquiries with such a softness, Walton could not have been stirred to respond.  
Smoothing his hand further up the captain's back, the creature held back a sob as he brushed a few gentle fingers against the captain's soft hair.  
Never since the fair family had he dared to imagine a life in which he could be so close to a being he so desired himself to be. One that, although barely strangers, felt safe enough shrouded in darkness to turn his back to the demon and allow sleep to befall him— vulnerable and silent.  
The creature forgot himself for a moment, and wrapped and arm around Walton, pulling the man flush with his chest and holding him feverishly, swearing in a silent oath that now conditioned to the presence of another being, he would not let the affections escape him. The captain's breath remained steady as far as the creature could tell, and as he made no struggle to escape the grasp, the creature willed tears to quit him and closed his eyes at last. 

Captain Walton lay beside the creature in the narrow bed he had occupied for so many months and, for the first time in not-so-long was lost for words. His mouth did not gape in the fashion of a beached trout, but did in fact feel dry and gritty like the sand beneath its scales. His chest had yearned with the want to bring comfort and grant peace to the sizable unfortunate but could not find the words to fit such an account. But by some miracle, both lay unknowingly awake-- restless eyes closed all the same-- and waited contentedly for the hour at which it seemed predictable to rise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creature makes me SOFT

As predicted, after the first night basking in the captain's affections, they became a necessity. With each gentle caress the creature felt his fingers grip a little tighter, dig a little deeper, grasp on for a few moments more. Days passed in this fashion, and the creature grew increasingly more comfortable with Walton's presence— enough so that if not ensured the man would return each time quitting the cabin, he would find himself shaking as if in withdrawal.

Much of the crew had also come to terms with the creature’s ubiquity, and lessened the tension in their shoulders with each night all remained unscathed. They saw very little of the beast himself, but the effects of his presence followed Captain Walton everywhere he went. Few questioned the nature of their relationship, and those who did had mostly the sense to keep these inquiries to themselves. One fact, however, was not to be denied. 

The creature, large as he was and imposing as his features could be, was exceedingly proficient in keeping himself out of sight. 

After growing attached to Walton, and thusly agreeing not to abandon the ship, he was given free reign to go wherever he desired— though some areas remained ill advised— and quickly found himself utilizing this permission. After all, the creature found he did not take well to being caged, especially in such small confines as the captain’s cabin, and opted instead (near exclusively) to wandering the deck while Walton was preoccupied with his duties and therefore had very little attention to give.

Whilst the captain charted new territories they passed, the creature found himself slinking through the crated aisles of supplies below deck, his shadow sweeping over lingering sailors and leaving them with a chill. Walton directed his crew and marked their course, overlapping simultaneously with men catching sight of an opposing figure creeping around corners, disappearing in the blink of an eye. Most found it fascinating— nearly a relief to be freed of the monster’s horror. The minority protested in a manner outstandingly contradictive, claiming the actions to be those of a meticulous predator marking future prey. 

“ _ I  _ have seen the beast!” one declared to small huddle of sailors. “I was the first on deck when the captain leapt from the ship, and I was the first one to see the terrible monster he brought back.”

Some scoffed and rolled their eyes, returning to work with minimal curiosity tugging at them to remain and hear the tale. Some stayed right where they were, frozen and tense as youth around a campfire. 

“It has fearsome eyes, yellow like the sun and just as blinding. Its teeth are razor sharp, hair long and knotted, and the demon stands at fifteen feet tall, towering over man!”

“Silence!” another hissed in response, tugged back from his retreat in challenge. “The captain will surely hear, and your telling lacks even the faintest semblance of accuracy. I too was upon deck that day, and know the monster stood at most nine feet in height, teeth near human and pearly white. His eyes, strange and horrifying as they may be, watered like the ocean. They did not shine as heaven above!” 

“Not heaven! As a raging fire poised to destroy!”

“You are both wrong!” a third chipped in. 

For a very short while, things proceeded in this way: bickering men tossing recounts of their own back and forth— some exaggerated and horrible, others true to life but all the same. Sound did not cease until a silhouette filled the doorway, blocking the whole of it and plunging the men into momentary darkness. Then, as a summer storm sets to pass, the shadow was gone; swiftly enough that some dared to argue it ever happened at all. 

Exponentially, the huddled men dispersed, each unsettled to a different degree, but all on a level of higher alert. The next morning, all woke in health the same as days before. 

The creature was not surprised in the least that the crew hadn't taken to him strongly as the dear captain. He heard their words with clarity and, despite efforts to make himself scarce amongst them, still few dared to conjure tales of harm he had brought and was planning to inflict. He knew them to be but petty rumor, but still did the names bestowed echo in his ears.  _ Wretch, demon, monster, beast.  _ It never failed to astound him that despite the unique cadence to each voice, all seemed to offer the same in substance. It hurt in a way extraordinarily similar to how it always had, twisting his heart in a cruel hand and leaving it pounding weakly in his heaving chest.

But now, in an act of god (or even more unlikely, man himself) the creature had something of a net to fall against every night when Walton returned to their cabin. When the sun set, he would grasp at every offered touch, Walton’s hand an all consuming power that made him feel as if his head were plunging irregularly into the depths of water below. When all the day had to offer was the small chance of a lingering hand, night brought silent promises of Walton's back pressed into the creature's chest, soft cloth of their nightwear all to separate scorching skin. 

The creature dared not ask for more. 

Could affections tire and drain as other resources on the ship did? Could it flow until gone like the barrels of beer below deck, leaving a dry space soon forgotten? It seemed even during the simple light of day touches were fleeting, and on the eve they stopped altogether, what would become of him? 

That night, the one following fled proximity to the crew's cruelties, the creature retired to an empty cabin and awaited Walton's return. There was very little for him by means of activity, and he occupied the time with fantasy of what could be if endearments were inexhaustible. How he craved to wrap his hand around Walton's, holding the gentle thing with tenderness unparalleled by what he had seen amongst the cottagers so long ago. He wished to embrace Walton in the light of day, when he could see each warm smile of the man free of the secrecy night brought. 

An hour proceeded thusly, but the captain had still not retired. The creature wrung his hands and stood nervously for a moment, then forced himself to sit. When he rose to his feet again in the following minute, the idea of sitting made him want to vomit and he instead paced a few steps towards the door and back again. In this manner another hour passed and the moon was near its peak. The creature fretted quietly until then, but unable to contain the clawing in his skull, he slipped from the cabin with great haste and made headway around the upper deck.

There was no sign of Walton out in the chill of open sky, so the creature slinked downwards to rations, where his shadow flowed over worn wooden crates and his footsteps made not a sound. He proceeded to the kitchen, where empty tables and accompanied benches lined the floor, inanimacy staring back begrudgingly. Anxiety stung in the creature's throat as he feverishly hastened to the hall before the crew's dwellings, halting suddenly upon hearing the sweet melody of Walton's voice. The creature strained to hear, but still managed only to catch the tail end of what was likely a long speech.

"- and although he be monstrous," the voice flowed as sweetest poison in the creature's ears, "no consequences or harm will befall you if none continue this path of scorn. I advise you. Tread carefully."

With that Walton left through the corridor and headed up above deck, missing how the creature had backed into the shadows with a twisted expression somewhere between sorrow and anger. 

He should have known, really, that all had turned far too fast in his favor. But still the realization stung, knowing that beneath all the tenderness remained a man, a  _ human _ , who believed him, the cursed wretch, to be capable of harming those with which he had no feud. Then again... why should the judgement pass him by? The creature had innocent blood and torn flesh beneath his nails, he had killed before, why would Walton trust him to speak truthfully about his disinclination to cause further harm. Tears burned the creature's cheeks as they dripped and he thought of returning to the cabin, holding Walton tightly, and willing himself to forget the words he hadn't been meant to hear. 

However, the thought cut as a blade laced with betrayal, and the creature instead crept shakily back to the maze of crates behind him. Against a corner he discovered a cleared space of empty boxes, forgotten and dusty, and slithered his way beneath their shelter as the wryly serpent he so appeared. There he dozed, large arms wrapped around his body and clutching painfully, bruises where the captain would have caressed.

  
  


Walton opened the cabin door with an apology on his tongue, ready to feign an excuse for his tardiness. He had seen how the crew treated his guest, and although found no pleasure in threatening them with being fired from duty, felt the strict need to enforce his capability to do so. The creature had done nothing wrong— despite how he may look— since arriving on the ship, and scandal cast in his name was completely uncalled for. 

Light hearted apology already spilling from his lips, Walton entered an empty cabin and was met promptly with a cold bed; not but a trace of living being left behind. His heart pounded rapidly and Walton immediately searched the room in a concerned haze, not having to look especially hard given there wasn't much in way of cover. Under the bed, in the cramped closet, and beneath his desk were the only viable places even remotely possible for the creature to fit, and his search quickly proved to be in vain. 

Walton quit the room in a near sprint, dashing rapidly about the barren ship whilst his men set to sleep peacefully below deck. Although sour to admit, Walton noticed how the creature slinked from place to place like a ghost between walls. The gigantic man could simply disappear if he so desired. Still, when the creature could not be found, Walton was again atop the deck, scanning the water rapidly for any sign that his guest may have abandoned the ship altogether. Tears stung in the back of his eyes as the night continued to grow colder and colder, and the captain returned not to his cabin until frostbite threatened his limbs and exhaustion blackened his vision.

Despite this, that night he scarcely slept, and in the morning when he awoke to an equally empty bed, the sound of sorrow circulating in his skull became enough to drown out the ocean below. He did not eat breakfast, but wandered to the kitchen anyway, careful to mind his peripheral as he advanced. 

Some of the crew seemed to pick up on Walton's strange shift in mood and could only conclude the monster had done  _ something _ . Walton thought it best not to spread word of the creature's disappearance, as it would likely instill something of a panic within his men. The only thing scarier than the beast you know, is the beast you don't. 

  
  


The creature remained in his hiding spot for longer than he would care to admit and, gauged by counting herds of feet shuffling to and from the dining hall, believed it had been nearly two days. His limbs were excruciatingly stiff, face sticky with dried tears, and although his stomach grumbled, he could have survived a good while longer. Instead, he shifted the boxes slightly, and slipped through the shadows only to discover night had fallen again. 

The creature wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed. He was more impervious to the chill of ice than humans were observed to be, but it wasn't the cold that stung him. He craved deeply to hold Walton in his arms, but what was it like to be held by a monster? Surely the captain could barely stand to each night endure the deathly grip of a demon. The creature would have quit the ship entirely if he were a little stronger, but a small disgusting thread of hope tugged at his heart every time the thought crossed his path. No one had ever been willing to bear the burden of his being aside from the beloved captain, and perhaps that fact alone stood for something.

He climbed the stairs and was atop the deck in a matter of moments, sticking close to the walls where moonlight cast soft shadows across the floor. From his poor vantage point pressed against the outer wall of Walton's cabin, the creature was shocked to see the captain standing alone, still awake, with hands gripped tightly around the surely frigid rails of the ship. 

This time, Walton had no words for the creature to overhear. The man simply stood, eyebrows knitted together as if in great concern or deep in thought, and stared blankly as waves lapped violently against the side of his ship. The creature felt his lungs compress. Longing. 

He hadn't realized how his skin itched before, but then felt as if static crawled beneath it. The creature would have come out of hiding, if Walton did not turn around first. 

It was clear that the captain's recognition was not immediate, but feeling the weight of another man's presence, Walton whipped around all the same and scanned the deck feverishly. His landed on a dark cast of shadow, and although his eyes perceived nothing but black, they lingered. 

"Hello?" Walton called, and the creature's heart lurched at how he wavered. "Are you there?"

The captain's voice clung to a sense of doubt, but as the creature emerged partially from the shadows he appeared consumed with relief.

"Oh thank god! I was so worried!" he exclaimed in earnest, hurrying to where the creature stood. "Where had you gone? I thought perhaps you had left for good. Oh! I would surely dismay if it proved to be true."

The creature slouched as he always did, tucking his shoulders closer to his chest as if trying to appear smaller. 

"I heard what you think of me," he said softly, "and at first wondered how you could believe me to be capable of harming your men. But dear! You are right! Who am I to deserve your trust? How could a being as me bask in amity without fully realizing the burden of welcoming a fiend aboard your ship?"

Walton's mind raced, and although he understood the creature had clearly heard something, he couldn't place what exactly was being misinterpreted. Still, the captain lurched forwards and grabbed his guest's sleeve as if afraid he may again disappear. 

"You are mistaken! I have no doubt that you mean not harm my men, and though I don't know what you believe I've said please understand it must have been a misinterpretation!"

The creature recoiled, surprised by how Walton seemed to plead. His lungs swelled and he reached for the captain's shoulders, grasping tightly the fair man.

"Truly?" he cried. "You truly believe me not a fiend?"

"You are no fiend! The names others have given you and those to which you cling are not the reality I've observed! You claimed to once be benevolent and good, but I can see the traits have not quit you!" Walton urged the creature to lean in, cupping his now wet cheeks with a careful hand. "You may have been Virctor's Adam, but you are  _ my _ beloved. Adam," he peered into his yellow eyes, "you have never been the monster which you perceive."

The creature, now named and stranded completely in the depths of his own emotions, fell to his knees, quaking so violently the floorboards vibrated beneath Walton's feet. His sobs shook the captain to his core, and he was helpless to do anything but wrap his arms tightly around Adam's shoulders. 

He whispered in his ear, "Let us return to our cabin. I haven't the slightest clue where you disappeared to, but all I want is to sleep."

Adam lifted his head and met Walton's eyes with a heavy look. He signed and the smallest smile, sad as it may have been, played at his lips.

"All I want is to sleep, if only in your arms."

Walton was swept off the deck floor in a moment lost to a swift blink, and found himself nearly six feet above the floor in Adam's arms. Tears still streamed from the man's eyes, but he looked upon Walton with great fondness, and when a soft laugh escaped his lips, Walton nearly fainted. 

Adam pushed open the cabin door and ducked inside, moving uncharacteristically slowly as to ensure Walton's head and legs passed through avoiding impact. No lights were on in the captain's cabin; both men appeared not to care, as Adam practically dropped Walton into the narrow bed and promptly curled around him, holding the captain tightly in his arms like a child to a beloved toy. 

"Thank you," Adam whispered in a watery voice, pulling Walton impossibly closer. "I hadn't dared dream of joy in so long. It matters not what you say of me, or what I think you say, long as in my company you are willing to remain."

Walton struggled to turn in Adam's arms, never moving away from the large body, but rather rolling against it. He pressed his hands and face into the man's chest and inhaled deeply as a large smile possessed him.

"Never have I scorned your name, Adam." He felt his guest shiver against him at the sound of a name. "And never do I plan to."

They fell asleep that night to the sound of each other's voices, and did not awake until very late into the next day. When the sun had long risen and the crew became concerned, knocking hesitantly on the metal door, Walton assured and dismissed them, collapsing back into bed atop Adam's chest and listened to his breathing until sleep again blessed them.

That way they remained, bodies pressed together, in the revealing light of day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to the whole discord server for making me actually want to write (also sorry if theres 10000 typos)


	3. The NSFW one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm on my bullshit  
(Nsfw warning)

Each night, when Walton and Adam climbed into bed and fell asleep with their bodies pressed together, the still unfamiliar sensation of warmth that shocked through Adam's body seemed more than any being should be capable of experiencing. There was not a single thing in the world he could imagine as more delightful, and yet something deep in his chest craved just that; more. More of what, Adam couldn't hope to know, but it resolved always in squeezing Walton so tightly the man would have to tap his arm for a moment's relief. 

One morning, Walton awoke with faint bruises on his upper arms, large and spaced out in a way only gigantic hands could manage. Adam nearly burst into tears at the sight of them and in a pale panic made for the door with clear intention of fleeing the ship for good. Walton luckily caught his arm and Adam stayed with minor convincing. 

"Don't worry, I'm in no pain. But with the urgency to which you cling to me I fear for you that may not be the case. What troubles you, sweet creation?" Walton asked soothingly. 

Adam had bowed his head and watched the floor diligently, unable to bear the weight of Walton's concerns. He mumbled his words.

"I have craved the touch of a human for all my life. And now I have it. What would I be to crave more?"

Walton's eyebrows shot up, surprised, although neither offended nor displeased.

"For what do you yearn?"

Adam slouched further, so deeply the captain now faced his chest. He shook his head and silken hair swung with the motion, back and forth as finest linen in the wind. Walton felt the urge to reach for it but, as he felt the weight of their words increase, forced himself to a halt. 

"That is just it." Adam spoke sorrowfully. "I know not what to make of this yearning in my chest, for it hungers only for the unknown." 

Walton nodded thoughtfully and brought a hand to his chin, rubbing where stubble had grown and needed to be shaved.

"I do believe I have an idea, but I'm afraid it will have to wait until conditions are more… desirable. And we will have to see if it is something you are at all interested in."

A small grumble lulled from somewhere in the back of Adam's throat, and his cheeks darkened. Walton wondered how much of passion the man understood, if anything beyond the vagueness of it simply existing. 

"But we can discuss it another day."

Adam nodded despite the desperate look sprawled across his face. "Anything you have to give, I will surely cherish."

Walton smiled warmly and reached up to cup his guest's face with an unparalleled sweetness, coaxing their eyes to meet. Adam felt his heart pound incessantly, ribs near aching from the pressure of it all. He tilted his head and leaned into Walton's hand, throat rumbling contentedly. The hunger burned within him, but with the knowledge open and the promise of its end, Adam could wait long as it would take.

  
  
  
  


It was nearly a month following Adam boarding the ship when Walton observed that his men were growing antsy at sea and supplies had started to run low. There was enough food for a small while, and fish were always viable, but they were entirely out of alcohol (which Walton didn't often indulge, but his men frequently did) and their fresh water would last only another few weeks still. Thusly, Walton resolved it would be in everyone's best interest to pull into a port city, although the stop would be far off course and add a number of weeks to their reaching the final destination. This idea didn't sadden the captain as perhaps it once may have, for Victor's tale was one of caution and Walton kept each word close to his heart. 

Adam seemed significantly less optimistic about the personal benefits of their stop, despite how hard Walton attempted to convince him that a city was amazing— something to behold— with masses of food, clothes, trinkets, and the like strewn about the whole of it. He was told of parting his hair to cover his face, wear a hood if he so desired, and by the captain's side, no one would think twice of his large stature. Adam wholeheartedly disagreed.

He had never seen a human body tall or large as his own, nor anyone that could even hope to come close. Surely amongst humans it would be impossible not to draw attention unless allowed to maneuver through alleyways and shadows; not what Walton had in mind. 

Therefore Adam decided it would be best for him to stay aboard the ship whilst Walton and his men spent the night in the city, shopping and eating as they so desired. 

"I cannot leave you alone on the ship!" Walton exclaimed upon hearing this. "I would never dare separate us, let alone trek where you cannot follow." 

Adam shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, for he knew the captain had a point in his concerns of separation. Still, he steeled himself and pressed on.

"You must accompany thy men. If supplies and survival are what you seek, they will need instruction and leadership. Independence may prove the downfall of accomplishing your goal. I will survive a night alone," he said, although there was doubt beneath his tongue. "I will not be a burden on thine duties."

Walton grabbed Adam's hands, and the creature jumped— though melting quickly— before grasping back as would a man clawing for aid. 

"You have never been a burden upon my shoulders. But… I suppose you are correct." Adam felt his heart sink and swell with pride simultaneously. "I will go with my men upon our arrival to buy supplies."

Adam nodded with a shaky smile. "But of cou-"

"And that night I shall return to you. My men will enjoy a night off the water, and we will have the ship to ourselves."

Stiffening tactlessly, Adam's stomach growled; not for want of food. He gulped deeply and pushed further.

"Will your men not require you? Surely, you too wish for a break from the unsteadiness of sea."

Walton shook his head resolutely. "My men will carry themselves easily without my presence. I am their captain on water, but for our time at land they will be responsible for their own persons. Besides," he hummed, "they would surely appreciate a night away from me, and I can see benefit in the same."

Something in Walton's voice was thick, almost malleable, and Adam felt the blood beneath his cheeks run hot. His hands grew clammy around the dear captain's, tightening all the same.

"And you're sure?" he stuttered. 

Walton slipped his hand out of Adam's in favor of sliding it gently up the man's arm. 

"Positive." 

And then he walked off, already barking demands at men laying slack against crates aboard deck. Adam's skin buzzed where fingers had lingered and forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat before wandering below deck to try and find something to occupy the time.

By evening, Adam had been long engaged with a small stowaway; a rat. The little thing seemed content to sit in his hands but allowed not much more, so Adam sat still as he could and stifled a smile as tiny feet skittered across his skin. He had seen them killed many times before, caught between jowls of cruel traps snuck between the walls. He inhaled sharply and the little beast scurried away only to disappear in a hole behind one of the many surrounding crates, leaving Adam again alone. 

It had felt funny how the rat's feet moved so lightly across his calloused hands, like little drops of rain in the beginning of an evening shower. Small claws tickled the creases in his skin, and although at one point the pitiful thing had gotten caught on Adam's stitches, it moved with certainty across unfamiliar terrain.

Adam didn't depart as his temporary companion had; rather stayed sitting, tucked away in a corner, rubbing his hands together in an effort to erase the ghost of touch. 

His mind drifted to Walton, as it so often did, and he couldn't help how his throat tightened. An image of the man, his dear captain, standing so far below him— staring up with half lidded eyes— burned in the back of his skull. And his voice. His voice still wafted in Adam's ears, a breathy and weighted thing that he had never quite heard spill from the captain's lips. 

Adam's heart pounded and he returned diligently to the memory of his first night on board, when Walton had so thoughtlessly stripped wet cloth from his frozen body. He shivered remembering how perfectly his captain's back sloped, all unscathed skin and scarless tissue.

Something coiled deep in his gut, the hunger gnashing teeth, and all Adam could do was rub his hands more vigorously together, thinking about how badly he wished to trail them down Walton's spine; count each vertebrae, touch where he hadn't before; where no one else was permitted. Adam would be more than content with that. Spending the rest of his days with rough hands splayed across the whole of Walton's chest, down and up again, smooth beneath his fingers. 

He dared not think his fantasy within grasp for fear of the captain's rejection, but the temptation of thought was high fruit still, and Adam's long arms stretched for it so.

As footsteps approached the shadows in which he resided, Adam pulled himself from the depths of his mind, shame staining his cheeks, and prepared to stand when they stopped a meter or so away. 

"Adam?" a voice called. "Are you down here? We land early next morning, and should soon retire for the night."

"Yes, I am here," Adam replied, rising quickly to his feet. "Is it not still early?"

"It's true that the sun has only just set, but I have finished my duties and a full night's sleep would serve us well. Tomorrow will surely be busy."

Unable and entirely undetermined to argue the matter, Adam happily took to Walton's side and the two progressed up narrow stairs, across deck, and arrived at the cabin. As always, Adam walked in first, and Walton followed suit. The door clicked and locked behind them.

"I think we should further discuss tomorrow's schedule before settling in."

"Of course. What do you intend?" Adam's heart pounded in his ears.

Walton hummed and sat on the bed, kicking off his shoes in favor of comfort. "I will part with my men and enter town soon as the ship docks. I will likely be gone for nearly the whole day. Are you still okay with this?"

Adam nodded nervously. "It is thine duty."

"In that case, my crew and I will gather necessary supplies for the continuation of our voyage. All plan to sleep within the city, and will not return to load the ship until late morning."

Walton pat the bed to gesture his guest to sit, and he complied with a feverish haste. The mattress sunk and the captain leaned purposefully into his shoulder.

"I will return at dusk with a meal for you, if you so desire, and we shall spend the night right here. Does that sound okay?"

The gulp was audible from Adam's throat and he agreed to the plan in its entirety, although it was plain by his countenance that he knew the implication of  _ something _ lay thinly veiled by Walton's words. 

"And when I return to you," Walton's face had taken on a warm hue of its own, "I would like to try something I think you would very,  _ very _ much enjoy.

A jolt like lightning passed through Adam's veins, head to toe, and again was that odd coiling in his gut. He shifted, though not quite uncomfortable. 

"And what is this 'something', dear captain?" he breathed.

Walton smiled, wide and sweet, and adjusted Adam's sleeve where the thick fabric had twisted. His cheeks had turned a delightful pink, and Adam felt his own darkening as heat rushed through him.

"I would hate to ruin the surprise," Walton drawled in a divine lull. "But you must remember that it will be very important to tell me to stop if you dislike it."

Adam wasn't sure what to make of that, and what could only be described as anxiety lodged in the base of his throat. But after all, Walton had assured him he would very much enjoy whatever was planned, and Adam remained thusly resolute in experiencing it. He nodded committedly, but Walton must have seen something in his silence.

"There's no need to be nervous," Walton assured. "I'm afraid we may get… carried away if I delve too deep, but would you like to try something simple for tonight? Perhaps as a promise of what's to come?"

Adam, although still in the dark, was absolutely certain that he did. 

"Yes."

Walton nodded and suddenly seemed a bit unsure of himself, turning so he was sitting with his legs crossed entirely atop the bed. Adam slowly followed suit and the two sat in a moment frozen, facing each other between a heavy gaze.

"Ha," Walton breathed. "Okay, so… oh you're still so tall. Hold on. Alright, lean down for me? Okay just a little more… perfect!"

Adam had craned over abnormally, back arched outwards, and suddenly found himself closer to Walton's face than light would ever allow. His stomach twisted and writhed, but his heart soared so high it may have carried him away.

"Stop me if you wish."

Walton planted a hand on Adam's cheek as he so often did, relishing in how the rough skin felt beneath his fingers. Slowly, he leaned upwards and pressed his lips softly against his guest's, pulling away after only barely making contact. Walton was not surprised that Adam did not recoil in disgust, but he had not expected to pull back and stare into eyes large with hunger. 

"I take it that was okay?"

Adam nodded so fast, Walton thought he had perhaps induced whiplash, and could have sworn he heard a bone or two pop. 

"And there… there is more?"

There was something raw Adam felt in how he spoke, grumbled as he lowered his voice to a near whisper. He had seen a kiss, of course. Had observed many between the cottagers, Safie and Felix, clearly infatuated with something about each other. Still, he had never dared imagine feeling such soft lips upon his own. 

"Of course! There is more to kissing too, but we really mustn't get carried away with my men aboard."

Desperation leaked into Adam's expression and he whined quietly, leaning dangerously close to Walton. The man exhaled, not quite a laugh but bemused all the same.

"But if you insist, who am I to deny you such a simple pleasure?"

They met again, a more determined contact, and Walton this time made an effort to move against Adam's lips. He seemed to take the hint, as Adam too began to lean in for more, awkwardly at first, and only vaguely less so as a minute passed. It was clear the action was wildly unfamiliar and had not been attributed much fantasy, but in how Adam kept pushing harder, it seemed more than welcome. 

Walton found himself soon unable to match the pressure of how his guest went against his lips, and opted to shift forwards on his knees, allowing Adam to straighten his spine ever so slightly. The action was reciprocated easily, so easily in fact, large hands grasped suddenly at Walton's hips and tugged him against Adam's broad chest. Their heartbeats thumped arrhythmically, not melding into one, but rather wrestling and waning against each other as their bodies did the same. 

Adam parted his lips ever so slightly, and then there was a sizeable tongue in Walton's mouth. It couldn't be said whether that trick was one Adam knew or had accidentally stumbled upon, but blood rushed through the captain's body and he felt the situation grow furtherly dangerous. 

Adam's tongue moved through Walton's mouth slickly, exploring, tasting, savoring every bit of the experience he could, sliding it so deep it hit the back of Walton's throat and caused the man to sputter gracelessly. Adam pulled back as if burned, saliva trailing from the corners of his thin lips— unsure which one of them it belonged to. His eyes were glazed with lust, but concern and shame tugged the corners of his lips into a deep frown. 

"Oh! Perhaps… this is not— I am not-" his voice was ragged and sharp, meeting Walton's ears as a serrated blade.

The captain grabbed desperately at the parted cloak and craned his neck, breath scalding against Adam's lips.

"Do it again."

It wasn't so much the shock of being shoved mercilessly into his mattress that stole the air from Walton's lungs, but rather how his airway was blocked, gaping mouth surrounded entirely by a wholly welcome presence. And that  _ tongue _ . It filled Walton's mouth wonderfully, strong and determined in its movement. It snuck quickly to the back of his throat once again, but as Walton choked, his hand braced Adam's head from behind and prevented them from separating. Walton sucked diligently, urging it further, and suddenly wondered if his lightheadedness was attributed to the lack of oxygen, or blood filling extra space. 

Once Adam started using high ground to his advantage, forcing the captain impossibly further into the mattress and absentmindedly grinding his hips, Walton called it. He pulled his head back and gasped for air as if having been drowned, Adam's tongue slipping from his throat with a slick 'pop'. 

"I think…" Walton wheezed, "that is enough for tonight. I must again insist that it's quite too risky to advance with my crew able to hear."

Adam didn't complain, only planted another kiss on Walton's lips. He chuckled, but a hand on the chest eased the man away.

"And of course, your patience will be rewarded. Tomorrow night I have much more to give you." 

"More?" Adam gaped, saliva still dripping from his lips. 

Walton curled into his chest and inhaled deeply, desperately trying to slow the heart trying to break free from his ribs. "Oh, yes.  _ Much _ more. And the best part of it all, is that you'll have me all to yourself."

And there was that rumble again; the growl radiating so deep from within Adam's chest it could have truly been hunger. It did not assist in calming Walton down, nor did the heavy arms wrapped possessively around his torso. The vibration wracked his spine and Walton buried his face deeper into his guest's cloak to mask his burning face.

"Tomorrow," he breathed, whether to Adam or himself was unspoken, but the promise hung weightedly; ringing between their ears until morning raced to light.

Walton's plan to retire early for a long rest proved insufficient when the sun rose and his crew shouted him to deck as land approached. Normally, Adam would stay behind and sleep for another hour or so as Walton prepared for his morning duties, but when he quit the cabin that day, Adam was practically stepping on his heels. Walton didn't mind, setting about adjusting sails and readying the ship to be docked. 

As he fiddled with a particularly complex knot, Walton felt a huff air against the back of his neck, a jolt down his spine. He whipped around and nearly collided with Adam's head where it was bowed to face him. Walton slapped a hand onto the back of his neck where the ghost of warmth remained. 

"Did you just smell me?" he asked, laughing unsurely.

Adam didn't answer, ducking again and burying his head in Walton's wild hair. "You smell like me." 

One of the nearby men turned his head at the unusually low rasp of creature's voice and cast an odd look their way. He seemed to have missed specifics of the words spilt from Adam's lips, although did not proceed along his business until Walton sent the man a friendly wave to indicate all was well. When the man returned to his personal tasks, Walton clumsily pushed Adam away. 

There was a moment of hurt in the man's eyes, glistening where passion and love had moments ago resided. When something akin to fear creased his brow, Walton reached out to pull him back; his heart sunk when Adam flinched, even if ever so slightly. The executive decision was made easily that they would return to the cabin for a final meeting prior to landing. 

Despite how Adam's emotions grasped at him differently in passing, morphing like a shallow tune passed between composers, he still allowed the captain to tug him through the metal door and stood still, if stiffly, as it was shut.

"I have made an error, that I can admit," Walton said immediately, allowing little time for the air to settle. "I was flustered and fear I have made a poor decision. I would never mean to push you away, sweet creation."

Adam's face settled somewhere between relief and suspicion, jaw tense, though his lips relaxed. 

"You really must believe me, Adam, for I never mean you harm. But we mustn't let my men know of these affections, at least not yet. It's a complicated situat-"

"Do you fear to be seen dancing with the devil?" 

"Adam!" Walton gasped. "Of course not! It is simply that they aren't quite… used to you yet. They will surely come around in near future, but until then they might think, well it's hard to say, but they would scarcely believe that this is something I on my own wished for."

Adam nodded slowly, though his eyes betrayed the sorrow swelling within him. "I understand," he mumbled. 

"Oh, dearest," Walton urged him down and delicately cupped his cheeks, "I plan not to allow injustices to survive much longer. I will give them a half month's more, and no longer. Until then, our affections should be secret, but not from each other."

Walton pressed his lips against Adam's own, moving softly for a moment, and then allowing his tongue to glide across his guest's lips before pulling away. A pleasant redness took easily to Adam's face, but the moment only lasted so long. 

"Captain!" A voice called suddenly through the door. "we are prepared to dock!"

Both despised how quickly Walton jumped to the door. 

  
  


————————————————

The sun beat relentlessly as Adam watched the captain and his crew depart into the city from the cabin's porthole. Its glare stung his eyes and turned even the deepest hues to brightest light, but he dared not look away should he miss the moment Walton disappeared from sight. His gut twisted painfully, and Adam could neither lessen nor ignore the chill clawing at his spine. Each breath was shallow and pained him to take. 

Walton had earlier suggested he remain where those passing could spare him no glance, although Adam needn't be told. He wished not to again witness the horror his face reflected upon first encounters, nor did he wish to be mobbed, risking the safety of his dear captain's ship. 

At first he had planned on taking to the lower deck, where he would have room to move more freely, but at the last moment decided against it. Adam didn't care for the idea of seeing Walton's crew for the moment's time. Although tolerated, he felt shallowly accepted and if not for the captain's admiration believed he surely would have been chased off. The storm was worsened only by the information  _ they  _ were the source of affection's secrecy. 

Walton disappeared into a crowd of other humans, others like himself, and Adam felt his arm twitch at the shoulder. Loneliness stirred again within him as a strengthened wave. 

Adam wished for nothing but his captain in his arms, lips pressed dutifully together. He wanted to again feel his tongue slip through the captain's mouth and down his throat. To hear the barely-moans vibrate through him. Adam's body ran hot as Walton's promise echoed in his ears. 

_ 'More _ .' More of what? Adam hoped desperately for it to be more of the captain himself. The chance to finally touch, run his hands against smooth skin and bury his nose in the nape of Walton's neck. Blood rushed warmly to his crotch and Adam darkened at the cheeks. That had been happening more lately. 

He understood reproduction, the point of each vein and appendage that made up his body, but had never felt the unadulterated want it then screamed for. Surely the heat was related to what Walton meant. Or, perhaps he was getting ahead of himself. Affection was affection, and Adam would take all he could hold, but intimacy seemed a different boat entirely. 

Adam inhaled deeply and set to calm his heart, which raced in concern or the near opposite. He sunk into the bed and lay awake for a long while, face red as love and fear fought to grasp him from within. 

The sun moved as it always did, rising higher and higher until peaking and sinking thusly. Light turned from red to orange to yellow and then back again. Around noon hunger jostled Adam's being, a deep rumbling in his stomach, but he dared not quit the cabin and abandon the safety the cabin promised. As hours ticked by, the cacophonous sound of crowds moving in waves down the harbor became a cruel torment, and Adam grit his teeth to bear it. 

His hunger had long turned to something sickly and the flush had disappeared, replaced instead by an increasingly pale countenance. He knew not the present time, nor did he know when exactly Walton planned to return, but Adam counted each second in passing with bated breath. He rolled over and inhaled deeply into the mattress, which smelled more of him than it did Walton, a scent he discovered was best found on the man himself rather than the bed in which they often both resided. The sheets had been kicked off and were strewn about the floor, which was fine for Adam in his wears but welcomed a cold unsuited for the average human. It helped to cool his body and to a degree his heart. 

On a few occasions, people walked across the dock, footsteps loud and echoing against splintering wood, making Adam flinch each time. With every hollow step came a jolt of anxiety, every passing second feeling less and less safe. It wasn't until the sun had set and the sound of crowds depleted that quiet blessed him. It was silent for a long while. And then it was once again boots on wood. 

Not quite so loud as those before, but heavy all the same, they moved across the dock and Adam stayed alert, shoulders and back tense, ready to spring up at any given moment. And then they got louder. Closer. Hope swelled in Adam's chest as did an instinctual fear, and when the door opened with a deafening shriek, revealing the silhouette of a familiar form, he practically pounced. 

Then, so slowly while at the same time all at once, Walton was in his arms. Small in comparison and perfect in every way, Adam lifted him from the ground and kept the man in a vice grip until breath escaped them both. He had not known relief quite so visceral until he inhaled Walton's scent in all its purity. For all it was worth, his joy appeared nearly matched. 

"Are you alright?" Walton asked hurriedly. "I hated to leave you alone for so long. I hadn't meant for my return to be so delayed." 

"I am content now, as you've returned to me, safely and intentional," Adam responded, voice muffled between the thick locks of Walton's wild hair.

A sly sort of smile split across the captain's face and he nuzzled against the crook of Adam's neck, closer still despite the slight anxiety radiating from his person.

"Intentional indeed, dearest," he sighed. "I have waited a long while, as so have you." He trailed a hand beneath Adam's coat and the man nearly choked. "Would you like—"

"Yes. Very much." Adam's heart thundered in his ears.

"Excellent."

Walton led Adam back to the bed and sat the man down on the edge, admiring as always how the mattress sunk beneath his weight. The captain did not join to slink against his side as normal, but rather began to peel the jacket from his frame. It crumpled to the floor in a pile beside the discarded sheets, and Adam's heart raced but he did not move. Walton then allowed himself a moment's pause, stepped back, then shed his own jacket and vest; the well worn white button up remained for the time being. 

And he approached Adam. Not in any way the man could have imagined in his head— too tangible for fantasy, and all too heavy for reality— but in a way still that made the hunger within him twist and writhe, gasping for each breath. Walton swung one leg over Adam's, and then the other, resting carefully atop his lap. It fit him as did a loveseat, plenty large, warm as a fire's hearth, and all encompassing as if sinking into the comfort of feather stuffed surroundings. 

Adam's breath hitched as a hand smoothed the harsh lines of his chest and ribs, up to his throat, and gently— all too gently— coaxing him into a kiss. He had not the patience his captain demonstrated. 

In a moment, Walton found his body flush to Adam, neck arched in a sweet ache as a wonderfully thick tongue filled his mouth. It was clear the man learned fast and held true to his findings, for it was all to easy how Adam's tongue slipped to the back of his throat. 

Walton felt the all encompassing pressure to gag, but refrained, allowing instead the warmth run further and further down until they were practically devouring one another. Already their faces grew sticky and hot, saliva trailing from this lips as newly thawed spring rivers. It was not at all what Walton had planned. It was far better. 

Time passed rather quickly, though even as Walton's lips began to ache and jaw cramp, Adam appeared none the hindered. Walton was sure that if he allowed it, the man could live the rest of his life in that exact manner. It was incessantly difficult to pull the pleasure from him, even if only momentarily, and it took Walton a while longer to build up the willingness to do so. 

When they parted at last, the captain near immediately collapsed. He inhaled deeply, each breath in fast succession, realizing suddenly that the feeling of drowning may have been more than a romanticized endeavor. Saliva poured from his lips and dripped easily down his chin, though he dared to look up despite it and was met with a sight he hoped would be forever burned behind his eyes.

Adam seemed to fair not all that much better than his dear captain, though the depth in his glazed eyes suggested stolen breath resulted not of kissing alone. His gaze was piercing and somehow heavier than any weight Walton had ever had the pleasure to bear, silence veiling them aside from Walton's frantic breaths. 

Adam opened his mouth slowly and words dripped from them thickly as the molasses below deck. 

"That was…" he trailed off. His mouth snapped shut and it seemed he found not the words to describe himself. 

Walton tried to regain a semblance of control, success unclear, and buried his face into Adam's bare chest. His nose brushed stitched scars and he bore a shiver. 

"There is more to come." 

"... Then show me, sweet captain."

Walton thought of his next move, perhaps something grand, an action to shock his companion to astonishment, but his body begged for a moment of rest. He thusly allowed lips to part again, face pressed still against the other's broad chest. Walton trailed his tongue up easily, passing over scars and rough skin, reveling in how to texture urged him on so. Beneath his mouth Adam jolted electronically, pushing himself accidentally closer to the warmth. Walton's lips formed a smile and the apparition of a light escaped him. 

He lifted a hand and caressed Adam's ribs. The man stilled. His eyes fell to watch the captain maneuver with a shallowly practiced expertise, and Adam felt the sweet ache between his thighs grow insistent. With Walton perched in his lap, he practically writhed beneath the gentlest touch, though the captain seemed unaware. Adam allowed his eyes to flutter shut as peppered kisses trailed higher and higher, meeting eventually his neck. Lips parted. They sucked a bruise diligently into Adam's collarbone and a growled moan rumbled deep within his throat. 

Walton's spine wracked visibly at the sound and Adam, fearing he had instilled fright, cupped a hand tightly over his mouth. Sweat had began to bead on the sides of his face, smearing beneath the pressure from his hand. The captain continued to suck, pulling skin softly between his teeth and mouthing gently. Adam had to swallow another groan, sending it bubbling into his chest uncomfortably. It became difficult to fully enjoy the affections as he suppressed further each noise, each twitch, worried suddenly the wrong move could crash them. Tension drew Adam's shoulders taught and he cursed himself as the shift in being caused Walton to separate. Hands cupped his cheeks frantically and Adam opened his eyes slowly, though concern-clouded vision served not the clearest view. 

"Oh sweet creation, are you alright?" Walton asked with great worry. "Have I done something wrong? You musn't keep silent if my actions upset you! Please, speak to me."

Adam gulped. "Are you truly okay bestowing affections upon such a… a lesser thing?" He refused to let harsher words slip from him for they seemed to put the captain off. 

"You are my equal! And I want to do this very much, but if only  _ you _ enjoy it as well." 

Adam did in fact very much want whatever 'this' turned into. The sensations that flooded him were conflicting but pleasure coated each blade still. Walton considered his silence carefully and seemed to draw a conclusion as his eyes lidded seductively. He climbed out of Adam's lap and chose instead to lay flat on his back.

"Come," he said firmly. "Set your hands beside my head- Yes very good. Legs around mine… perfect."

Walton wrapped his arms behind Adam's back best he could, savoring the view as it had changed, his guest now positioned above him. Adam's face reflected still a jittery countenance, though his body shook against Walton in what seemed to be anticipation. The captain bent his leg purposefully and allowed his knee to press the slightest pressure into his guest's crotch. Adam's hips jerked forwards and piercing yellow eyes instantaneously lost their haze, sharp enough suddenly to draw blood.

He attacked Walton's mouth again, unsure what else to do with the passion that surged through his veins. But the captain's mouth seemed too small, too confined, for the pressure in his chest. Following Walton's example, Adam dropped his mouth down to the smooth skin of the sweet man's neck and took it between his teeth, sucking harshly in desperation. 

Walton too jerked at the sudden force as Adam had earlier, though perhaps more intensely, and flushed as a high moan slipped from his throat. Teeth caught his skin, clamping down as if surprised and the next sound to leave Walton was near a scream. Adam pulled back with such speed it seemed inhuman— Walton had to remind himself it was— revealing his then blood-smeared lips. The captain was too far gone to tolerate another lapse as they had experienced mere moments prior, impatiently tugging his guest back down.

He forced their lips to meet each other briefly, just enough to lap his own blood from Adam's mouth, before releasing his grip.

"Again," he gasped. 

That time, the rumble of his guest's throat remained unsuppressed, vibrating against Walton's and serving only to add to the sensation. His back arched and pushed his knee harder against Adam's crotch, to which the man responded clearly. Walton gasped as teeth closed around him again, softer now, and scraped over his bleeding neck. The pain urged him on, a wonderful sting that proved to him Adam was there, doing just what Walton had hoped for from day one. 

His hands, from where they had been around Adam's back, fumbled down to his chest and began to work on the removal of his button up, which had become stuffy and uncomfortable. Each small clasp gave him trouble, making the action an awkward one and to some extent that seemed to bother Adam. This was made clear when Waltom felt a large hand rise from next to his head, lips leave his neck, and long fingers ripping the shirt from his person. Had it been another situation, Walton may have been cross. However, the animalistic thing stirring in Adam's gaze warranted immediate forgiveness. 

Walton ached in how hard he had become, and it seemed in practice he was not alone. His guest's movements were becoming more hasty, messier in a sense that gave himself away. The captain wanted to make Adam feel better than he had ever imagined, and something about knowing it was he alone who got to bask in such a sight sent heat coursing through each extremity. 

Walton let out a muffled moan as he shifted to a sitting position, fabric creating friction against his crotch, taking Adam with him. He said not a word, opting instead to make for undoing the man's pants. Adam seemed to tense, but it did not appear out of discomfort, rather anticipation. Walton nearly sobbed when Adam's cock sprang free from his pants. 

"Captain," Adam grumbled as if in warning, surprise staining his voice with lust. But Walton was never good at denying adventure when it presented itself so finely, and promptly took Adam his within mouth best as any one man could manage. Near immediately, one of those strong hands Walton so truly adored was buried in his hair, not forcing him deeper, but urgent all the same. 

Adam was, as any could have guessed, significant in size, large body holding true to its outward proportions, and Walton's jaw pained already trying to take it all in. He wished to go deeper still even once the back of his throat was hit, but the action seemed increasingly impossible as tears dotted the corners of his eyes from the unusual exertion. It wasn't until he gagged harshly that Walton gave up and grabbed the base of Adam's cock with a free hand. 

The action was new to him in a small variety of circumstances, though he dared stop only once to spit a generous amount of saliva into his left hand. For every millimeter deeper he managed, a small grunt or moan cheered him on, each a little victory in and of itself. He twisted his wrist and licked a long stripe from base to tip, making sure to cover areas he could not otherwise reach. 

Watching Walton perform such an unfathomable act was almost as pleasurable as experiencing it, though Adam found he was having a hard time keeping his eyes focused on the scene before him. Black crowded the corners of his vision as he clenched his teeth and resisted the growing urge to toss his head back, tightening his grip in Walton's hair unknowingly. He realized only when a sweet moan vibrated against him with a shockingly proximity the captain had been forced deep as he could go and any semblance of control Adam had regained in that moment was lost. 

Walton swore he could feel his guest's the climax approaching, but the fast release caught him by surprise nonetheless. With a convincing howl, cum flowed through Walton's mouth, trailed down his throat, spilling from the sides of his lips and down his neck. Walton sputtered automatically, body rejecting his desire to drown in anything Adam had to offer, but he still made an effort to swallow what he could— avoid making  _ too  _ much of a mess. That endeavour failed fantastically, for Walton could only manage to swallow as much as he could drink, and the load seemed shockingly to exceed that limit. The captain kicked his lips tiredly and although Adam's cum didn't taste good persay, Walton savoured every drop he could. 

"Was it worth the wait?" Walton panted through his burning throat.

Adam did not respond, something he was becoming rather used to, simply staring at Walton instead, lips parted to allow labored breath to escape. Walton could practically see the hearts in his guest's eyes, which was not at all how he had expected the night to end and squirmed under the scrutiny of such a weighty look.

"Can I…" Adam started quietly after another moment, seemingly stricken by an unfamiliar haze. "Can I touch you too? Like… that?" 

Walton's heart leapt to his throat and he could only imagine how red he must have become in that moment. The answer felt to him obvious, but he dared a nod despite it. 

  
  


Adam moved with a far greater gentleness now, entire being softened by that look in his eyes. The lust swelling in Walton's chest was suffocated beneath it, replaced instantaneously with a soothed intimacy that reflected Adam’s well. Long fingers struggled to undo the multitude of clasps on Walton’s pants, which seemed more troublesome in that moment than ever before, but Adam remained persistent and mild throughout, successful with only the ripping of a single button. 

Walton exhaled a heavy breath in relief as Adam shucked the pants from his legs and tossed them uselessly aside. The cabin’s cool air was not ideal, or at least seemed that way for a brief moment, until chapped lips wrapped easily around him. The stark contrast in temperature made Walton remarkably grateful for the chill and had it not been for study hands now clinging to his hips, he surely would have entirely collapsed. 

"Oh, god," Walton gasped when he hit the back of Adam's throat. "Fuck, Adam-"

The man chuckled around him and Walton felt the sound travel through him in a wave of ecstasy. Adam continued to move slowly, gliding around Walton as if he were made of glass and in danger of somehow breaking. It seemed unintentional how the tenderness only served to drive Walton mad, but when yellow eyes met his and a smirk quirked up the corners of Adam's lips, the captain could do little but arch his back and utter a near unintelligible 'bastard' to the ceiling above. When Adam moved, he did so with a feeling of expertise none of his experience should have been allowed, or at the very least, it well seemed that way in the moment.

Walton bucked his hips as Adam's tongue swirled around him casually, but the lingering grip kept him steadfast still. Adam bobbed his head easily and took his captain in again entirely, burrowing his nose at the base of Walton's cock. He inhaled deeply and his delight upon picking up a scent of his own, even there, faced unmatched intensity to even the greatest sorrows of his existence. 

Adam tried to lick there too, but his occupied mouth made that exceedingly difficult and resulted only in a small but undeniable brush of teeth. Walton jolted to the feeling and had he not learned what that meant, Adam may have feared the motion as something negative. Instead, he hummed contentedly, heart thumping wonderfully in his chest, and again allowed his teeth to glide cautiously all the up, mouth separating from Walton with a lewd pop. The captain groaned at a sudden lack of contact, chest heaving and hair strewn wildly atop his head. Adam let the man's cock run now against the outside of his cheek and finally lapped at the base of it as he so desired. Walton shook so violently beneath him, it seemed the man may break.

"What is it dear captain?" Adam murmured in what he hoped was a seductive voice. "Has something caught your tongue?"

He licked a long stripe across the captain's pelvis as if to prove a point. As expected, a shiver wracked Walton and Adam was relieved observation had not betrayed his trust. 

"I imagined getting to touch you. To feel your skin against mine." He said when Walton only moaned in response. "But never did I dare wish to be blessed with such powerful endearment. Tell me captain… for what do you yearn?" 

"Please," Walton whined, withering against Adam's tongue.

"Anything you desire, from now to my death." Adam gently took hold of Walton's chin with one hand, the other wrapped firmly around his cock, and sat up so their eyes could meet. Adam kissed him quick, deeply all the same, unraveling with each passing second. 

"Robert," he rasped. " _ Anything _ ."

Walton could have blacked out in that moment as his vision blurred and at last a rough climax seized him. Adam held him through it, pumping steadily and coaxing his tongue through Walton's lips purposefully as he rode it out. Minutes passed and eventually his other hand joined the captain's face and Walton was lowered tenderly to again have his back pressed to the now very dirty mattress. 

Adam wrapped both arms firmly around Walton's bare body and pulled the man close, so much so they may have melded into one. The yellow street lamps peaked into the cabin, and for the first time both men fell asleep in fast succession, hearts beating in unison, and sheets abandoned still on the floor below. Perhaps the chill would have bothered Walton in another circumstance, but with Adam coiled around his person, he knew neither cold nor danger would dare hope reach him.

  
  


When Walton awoke with a lazy start the next morning, golden eyes full of tenderness and love met his instantaneously. They missed softly, ignoring how bad breath mingled between them, and Walton hoped silently way his men would never return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to thank God and Mary Shelley for carrying me to where I am today

**Author's Note:**

> lmao thanks for reading! this is going to be kind of episodic in the chapters, so it's just gonna be like a couple little highlights of the creature learning to be human and shit


End file.
